


Masterpiece

by Combatboots



Series: The Storeroom Saga [2]
Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Fucking, clarke is hungry, clarke is impatient, clarke is so Good, clarke played herself, dirty talk galore, heda comes out to play, lexa got cheek, read part 1 tho, strap-on sex, there's paint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combatboots/pseuds/Combatboots
Summary: Clarke is almost deliriously turned on from earlier this morning and is seeking release. Will she be able to convince Lexa to give her what she needs?





	

**Author's Note:**

> By Combat and Boots. Mostly Boots probably.

Clarke lets out an audible groan of relief as the door to the bedroom finally comes into view, the Guards, Karlo and Sage standing sentry outside as usual. The meeting had gone on for far too long and Clarke had spent the entire time sat in her chair, contending with uncomfortably soaked knickers and an ache between her legs that refused to subside. Now, with professional business done for the day and private sanctuary in her sight, Clarke speeds up, barrelling down the corridor at an almost jog, her right hand finding and claiming Lexa’s left one and pulling the Commander along too.

“Clarke?” Lexa poses her niron’s name as a question at their sudden hurry. Although she doesn’t at all mind being practically dragged down the corridor by Clarke, especially if it means getting to squeeze tightly to Clarke’s hand.

“I have something else to show you,” Clarke gives in explanation, her voice sounding just a little strained and giving her excitement away, “in the bedroom,” she adds, just in case her point wasn’t already clear.

“I see,” Lexa responds with a smirk, comprehension dawning. Her pace quickens to better keep up with Clarke’s purposeful march. They make it to their bedroom door side by side and hand in hand, both of them trying not to look too devious as Karlo opens the door for them.

The couple step inside their bedroom, and Clarke feels the knots in her tummy tighten, the closer to her goal she gets. She waits a few moments for the guard to shut the door again, hiding Clarke and Lexa from the rest of the world, and then she springs into action. Clarke pulls her hand from Lexa’s, and then uses both hands to find the hem of her knitted sweater. The garment is up and over her head in a blink, tossed carelessly to the floor in a flash. 

Lexa watches, mouth agape, as Clarke gives quite the spectacular performance. Her niron doesn’t stop moving further into the room as she manages to throw off her boots and socks, pull down and step out of her pants, with only a modicum of clumsy stumbling. Before Lexa is even quite certain that it’s happened, she is staring, or rather gawking, at Clarke left in nothing but her lingerie.

Lexa feels her pulse quicken, gulping hard as her eyes rake over inches of soft, creamy skin. Lexa admires shapely calves, wonderful thighs and lovely, slightly squishy hips. The Commander takes in the beauty of her niron and struggles to find words.

“Not to suggest you seem a little desperate, niron, but--” Lexa starts to croak out, her arousal already evident in the high pitch of her voice.

“Lexa,” Clarke interrupts with a growl, and to really make sure she’s being heard she tosses her hair and peers coyly over her shoulder, “I need you to fuck me.”

Lexa doesn’t need to be told twice. She closes the distance between them, grabbing Clarke roughly by the hips to turn her about and pull her closer, eager to get her lips on her niron’s. With Clarke’s beautiful face in range, Lexa attacks, bowing her head and pulling Clarke’s top lip into her mouth, nibbling on the soft skin there. Clarke leans into the kiss, deepens it and turns it dirty, sucking on Lexa’s tongue, enveloping it in the wet warmth of her mouth. Lexa is content to let the kissing carry on, but Clarke has other plans. 

“Lexa,” Clarke begins as she tears her lips away from Lexa’s. She gets no further when Lexa immediately chases her mouth and Clarke can’t help but to allow another desperate kiss, absolutely weak for them. “Lexa!” she tries again, to much the same ineffectual conclusion. Finally, Clarke is forced to not only pull her mouth away from Lexa’s, but her body out of Lexa’s tight hold too, and Clarke pants for enough air to speak, “Lexa, I don’t think you quite understand what I mean by the word ‘now’,” she husks out.

Lexa is just a little slow to comprehend Clarke’s words, and she gazes at Clarke’s face with heavily lidded eyes and swollen, parted lips. At last, Clarke’s sheer need for her sinks in and Lexa grins toothily, her nimble fingers moving to the fastening of her spaulder, keen to rid herself of her clothing so she can do as Clarke has asked. Lexa’s fingers barely find the clasp of the fastening before Clarke is speaking again.

“Lexa! I said now,” Clarke bites out, grabbing Lexa’s hands and keeping her from unfastening anything. “You will go get the harness, and you will fuck me. Now,” Clarke spells out haughtily, clearly not in the mood for waiting any longer. 

“But Clarke,” Lexa starts to protest, “My clothes--”

“Can stay on,” Clarke insists, and seeing that she needs to take extreme measures to truly communicate her current predicament to her lover, Clarke’s hand shoots out and grabs Lexa’s again. Clarke pulls the claimed hand forward and, keeping her eyes locked with Lexa’s the entire time, guides it between her legs, encouraging Lexa to cup her pussy over her ruined underwear, hoping that the soaked fabric will inspire Lexa to stop dithering. “Now, Lexa.”

Lexa gasps as Clarke places Lexa’s hand between her legs, more surprised at the heat and wetness there than Lexa perhaps should be given what had transpired that morning. The thought of Clarke sitting through that agonizingly dull meeting whilst suffering in such a way at last wisens Lexa to Clarke’s desperate plight. Still, Lexa can’t deny her amusement at Clarke’s neediness, and when Lexa pulls herself from Clarke’s grasp and whips past Clarke to head for the chest of drawers, she does so with an entirely smug expression plastered on her face.

“I know you’re smirking, babe,” Clarke claims as she watches Lexa go.

Lexa snorts and rolls her eyes at being caught out, decides to make things a little worse by swinging her hips more deliberately as she moves, knowing that Clarke will drink in every sway.

“That isn’t hurrying,” Clarke states now, though her gaze drops hungrily to the wiggle of Lexa’s ass underneath her coat. “I was going to let you finish striping me if you followed my directions properly,” Clarke muses, the near painful throb between her legs making her a little wicked. She quickly unclasps her bra and lets it fall from her arms onto the floor, and it is followed soon upon by her knickers. “Too late now.”

Lexa had thus far been able to shrug off Clarke’s taunts, making it to the chest of drawers, but this revelation has her stalling and spinning on her heel just to get her first look of totally naked Clarke. Lexa hears herself growl as her eyes immediately seek out the generous swells of Clarke’s breasts, Lexa noting with satisfaction how Clarke’s gorgeous, pinky red nipples have puckered in the cool air. She longs to go back over to Clarke, to take the weight of those globes into her hands, to pull a nipple into her mouth. The urge to backtrack gets even stronger as Lexa drops her attention over Clarke’s soft tummy, to eat up the sight of golden curls and the absolute perfection that lies below them. Having felt Clarke’s wetness over her underwear, Lexa can almost imagine the soaked heat just waiting for her attention at the apex of Clarke’s thighs. Lexa feels her mouth flood with saliva at the thought of tasting Clarke’s desire, drinking her until Clarke is trembling and coming under Lexa’s lips.

“You are so beautiful, Clarke,” Lexa chokes out, still standing and staring in wonder.

Clarke scoffs, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks at Lexa’s adoring words and eager, hungry gaze. Clarke realises that she’s managed to play herself by announcing her nakedness to her lover. She shouldn’t have expected Lexa to ignore such news and so Clarke makes her request again a little softer than the previous times, “Lexa, my love, the harness?”

“Of course,” Lexa hums, turning back to the bottom drawer of the dresser, pulling it open ever so slowly. Lexa rummages about for a bit, looking for what Clarke wants, what Clarke needs. “Did we put it back after the last time? I can’t seem to find it, niron,” Lexa teases, knowing Clarke is desperate. Lexa even glances up at Clarke with a most puzzled look on her face for extra effect. Sure enough, Clarke is padding over to the drawer in an instant, and Lexa feigns innocence as she watches Clarke assess the contents of the drawer too.

“Lexa,” Clarke snaps out, growing increasingly exasperated. Not least because the harness is in fact right at the top of the drawer in plain sight. “It’s right there!” Clarke even points it out.

Lexa makes a show of following the direction of Clarke’s point. “Where?” she asks, and her lips twitch as she tries not to grin. It serves Clarke right for being so utterly demanding.

Clarke bites her cheek, feeling about ready to scream at Lexa’s less than amusing little game. Knowing how long Lexa can drag these things out for, Clarke huffs and takes matters into her own hands. She pushes her way in front of Lexa and bends over to retrieve the harness. Clarke figures that she might as well finish the task if Lexa is so unwilling, and she also hunts for her favorite toy.

Knowing all along that this was coming, Lexa quickly steps back a pace and takes in the full glory of the view presented to her as Clarke roots through the drawer. Clarke completely naked and bending over before her, revealing the most generous view of her cute little ass and, even better, the sight of her swollen pussy, all glistening pink lips just ready to be parted and toyed with and explored.

“What a truly wonderful view,” Lexa muses aloud, because not letting Clarke know how she has just been so thoroughly set up would be no fun at all.

Lexa gulps as Clarke stands back up and turns around, noting the fire in those blue eyes. Perhaps she has teased Clarke enough, for now anyway. Lexa lets out a grunt as Clarke slams the harness and her chosen dildo against Lexa’s chest.

“Lexa. I am not in the mood for your games. Fuck. Me. Now,” Clarke growls, and then, because she knows it’ll get her what she wants, she lets out a strangled and needy, “Heda, please, I need you.”

As Lexa scrambles to affix the toy and put on the harness she knows she’s been played right back, although she doesn’t care at the moment, her revenge will come later. For now she is thoroughly swept up in the constant push and pull, the teasing and the retaliation. Lexa shimmies the straps of the harness over her boots and jeans, tightening the leather with firm tugs when she reaches the top. She notes how much less exciting it feels for herself with the thick material of her jeans between the base of the toy and her own pussy, but Lexa pushes her disappointment aside and finds the silver lining. If she’s going to be left with little friction to claim for herself while fucking Clarke, Lexa will at least be retaining her faculty for thought for much longer than she intends to let Clarke think clearly. 

Clarke waits impatiently, bouncing on her heels as she watches Lexa adjust the harness to sit just so. The sight of Lexa, still fully clad in her regalia, with the dildo jutting out from under her coat has Clarke biting her lip and feeling very weak in the knees. Deciding that instant that the bed is simply too far away, Clarke glances about for an alternative, closer target.

Lexa barely notices what Clarke is up to, intent on reaching the bed now that she is prepared to fulfill Clarke’s desires. Lexa makes it one step forward, when,

“Lexa!” Clarke huffs, having chosen her sturdy art table as a good a place as any to be fucked on. She drags the matching chair to the side and out of the way, and then puts her back to the wood, lifting herself up onto the surface, not caring when her bare ass lands on an unfinished painting, nor when her hand knocks over the cup with all her paintbrushes in it.

Lexa spins at the sound of her name and at the clattering of things falling to the floor. She observes with a raised brow as Clarke settles herself on top of the art table. Lexa had recently spied the furniture at the market and had the table brought into the room as a surprise. To give Clarke somewhere more comfortable to sit and work. She had not been intending for it to be used like this, and Lexa lets out a gasp when she realises that Clarke has gone and sat on top of what might have been a wonderful drawing of the forest outside the city.

“Clarke! Your work!” Lexa warns too late. She tentatively approaches the table. “Isn’t the paint still wet?” she asks, remembering vaguely about being warned not to touch last night.

“Well,” Clarke says nonchalantly, pretending like she can’t feel the cold paint now covering her ass cheeks, “If it wasn’t before, it is now.” To demonstrate her point, Clarke leans back, resting on her elbows, and parting her legs wide, heels digging into the edge of the table. Clarke spreads herself before her lover, revealing her ample lower lips to Lexa’s wide, roving eyes, knowing that Lexa will love seeing how wet she is. “Now come here and fuck me, Heda,” Clarke orders, “I need you.”

Lexa steps eagerly in between Clarke’s thighs, hand on the base of dildo to steady it, and brings the tip of the toy against Clarke’s swollen lips, pressing just hard enough to part them slightly and wet the tip of the strap-on. Lexa rocks her hips slightly, teasing at Clarke’s opening, not quite ready to give Clarke what she wants just yet.

Clarke, already at the end of her tether long ago, takes matters into her own hands. Clarke’s left hand finds Lexa’s belt in a firm grip, while she wraps her legs around Lexa’s hips. Clarke pulls Lexa into her, gasping as Lexa bottoms out, reveling in the sensation of finally being filled. 

“Jok,” Lexa hisses, watching as Clarke takes in every inch of the toy. She loves the feeling of Clarke pulling on her belt, making her feel so wanted. So needed. She rakes her eyes up over Clarke’s body to find Clarke’s own eyes squeezed tightly shut in pleasure, lips drawn together in a hard line as Clarke adjusts to the fullness. “You’re so gorgeous like this, Clarke. So wet for me, so full. I love the way you stretch for me, so greedy. I’m going to fuck you, Clarke. I’m going to make you come,” Lexa grunts, rolling her hips to emphasize her intentions. 

Clarke lets out a strangled whimper at Lexa’s slight movement, her pussy clenching tightly around the toy to make it feel even bigger inside her, greedy just like Lexa said. “Please, Heda,” Clarke manages. She cries out as Lexa pulls her hips back, working against the resistance of Clarke’s inner walls until only the head of the dildo is left inside her.

Lexa moans in satisfaction as she draws out of Clarke, the toy reappearing with a delicious, thick coating of Clarke’s desire on its girth. It makes Lexa’s slow, hard thrust back in wonderfully smooth and exquisite to behold.

Lexa keeps up the firm but leisurely rhythm, her eyes fixated on Clarke’s pussy as she fucks her, fascinated by how easily Clarke takes her in, and at how wet Clarke is for her. Lexa keeps her pace, knowing it isn’t what Clarke wants, but then again, she is just getting started.

Clarke lets out a hissed “Yes, Heda, fuck me,” as Lexa bottoms out again. Lexa feels so good, thrusting so deep and hard, and Clarke feels her tummy tighten regardless of the slow pace, the knots of pleasure in her body threatening to release under their own strain far too soon. Clarke tries to push the sensation away, knowing that if she comes now Lexa will never let her hear the end of it. She very nearly succeeds, but when Lexa rolls her hips just right and hits her g-spot, there’s no stopping the inevitable. Clarke tumbles, her orgasm shuddering through her, hands grabbing fistfuls of Lexa’s coat to keep her still as Clarke curses and moans her satisfaction. Clarke’s eyes stay firmly shut as she trembles through her climax atop the table, Clarke vaguely aware of her heels digging more firmly into Lexa’s hips as her toes curl. She feels her whole body go limp as the last waves subside.

“Shit,” Clarke gasps out between loud gulps of air.

“Indeed,” comes the wry and not at all amused reply from Lexa.

Clarke reluctantly opens her eyes and picks her woozy head up off the table, to see perhaps the most singularly unimpressed look she has ever seen adorn Lexa’s face. There’s the way that Commander Lexa stares down droning Ambassadors, the way that she eyes an empty plate where once there were honey cakes, and topping both of those expressions combined, the look she is giving Clarke right now.

“Heda--” Clarke begins. She is immediately cut off.

“You made me keep my clothes on for this, Ambassador,” Lexa snaps out. Lexa’s hands find Clarke’s thighs, noting and ignoring the way that they still tremble as Lexa takes a firm grip, fingers digging into soft flesh. She pulls her hips back, as if to remove the toy from Clarke’s spent body, but pauses just before pulling out completely. Commander Lexa thrusts back in.”You make a show of how wet you are, how needy. You beg me to fuck you and then come so quickly. Oh no, Ambassador, that simply won’t do. I’m not done with you yet.”

Clarke groans and whines pathetically as Lexa continues to thrust, her body shivering with over-sensitivity that she knows she will simply have to push through somehow. 

“You’ve been waiting for this since the storeroom, I know it. You’ve been dripping, aching for me to fuck you ever since you buried your tongue in my ass. I know you’re nowhere near satisfied, are you, Ambassador. I know you still want me, still need me to fuck you. I know you’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” Lexa continues to cajole, picking up her pace and loving the way that Clarke mewls in response. Even so, it is not the response that the Commander wants. “I asked you a question. You would do well to answer it. Do not keep me waiting, Bandrona,” Lexa clicks out. 

Clarke opens her mouth to give the response her Commander wants, but all that escapes her lips is a croak. Lexa is deliberately moving her hips with greater power, deliberately making it that much more difficult for Clarke to give a reply. Clarke’s lower body feels like it’s on fire as Lexa fucks her through and past the feeling of over-stimulation and at last, Clarke gasps in a breath and finds her voice. “Yes, Heda,” she moans, “Fuck me. Please. I’ve been waiting all day. I need you, I can’t get enough of you. Heda, please,” Clarke sobs.

“Os gadal,” Lexa praises, fucking Clarke harder now, pounding into her and smirking as Clarke’s tits bounce from the force, delighting in the way Clarke’s eyes roll back and close. “Jok, Clarke, you look so good when your tits bounce, I could watch them all day,” Lexa growls, before cupping Clarke’s tits, just enough to feel them bounce in her hands and cushion their momentum, fingers and thumbs pinching and rolling already stiff nipples.

“Fuck!” Clarke screams at the feeling of Lexa’s skilled hands toying with her breasts, those glorious fingers teasing Clarke’s nipples into painfully hard peaks. The added stimulation makes Clarke dizzy with arousal, and she feels herself growing even wetter with a fresh flood of desire.

Lexa lets out a feral grunt as she watches Clarke’s juices drip from her opening as Lexa pulls out, her pussy overflowing and covering the toy, Clarke’s thighs, dripping down Clarke’s ass onto the ruined parchment below. Now, each thrust in is accompanied by a delicious, wet slapping sound. Lexa’s ears ring with it and her head spins, the obscenity of that noise driving her wild. She pummels into Clarke with ferocity, relinquishing her hold on Clarke’s tits to handle Clarke’s legs up onto her shoulders, the sounds of their fucking almost getting drowned out by the rhythmic thud of the table against the wall behind it.

Clarke is thrashing, her hips bucking up to meet Lexa’s thrusts. Her characteristically dirty mouth has gone silent, minus obscene moans, dirty grunts, and plenty of curses. Clarke’s breathing goes shallow and her body starts to tremble as her orgasm gets closer. But, just before Clarke freefalls over the edge, she feels Lexa pull all the way out and Clarke’s impending climax is thwarted and replaced instead with an awful, maddening feeling of emptiness. Clarke fails to catch her disappointed whine and it echoes in the now otherwise quiet atmosphere. Her body hums, still teetering at the precipice but so cruelly denied her release.

“Is there a problem, Ambassador?” Lexa asks, as innocently as she can manage. 

Clarke bites her cheek, the urge to respond unwisely far too strong. “No, Heda,” she lies.

“Os gada, Clarke,” Lexa purrs, pulling Clarke up by the hands so she’s sitting at the edge of the table. “You look beautiful, niron, freshly fucked.”

A loud scoff escapes Clarke’s mouth in response to Lexa’s words, Clarke’s brow furrowing in discontent. “Freshly fucked?” she repeats back, trying to keep her voice low and dangerous when her breathing remains so labored, “More like freshly fucking teased.”

Lexa snarls at Clarke’s unchecked rudeness, baring her teeth. “You know, Ambassador, I was considering carrying you to the bed so that you might come for me in comfort,” Lexa reveals, “but I will not see insolence rewarded. Now, on your feet.”

Lexa smirks as Clarke hops off the table onto visibly trembling legs and stands in front of her. Lexa, softening for just a moment, wraps Clarke in her arms and gives her a chaste kiss on the lips, a kiss so gentle and sweet, just to make sure that Clarke knows she can stop ‘Heda’ at any time. Clarke has no intention of stopping, however, and sneaks her tongue into Lexa’s mouth to encourage her to keep going. Lexa sighs into the kiss, allowing the soft moment to last a little longer than intended and then bringing it to a stop with a sudden and firm nip on Clarke’s bottom lip. Clarke pulls back with a gasp at the sting of teeth on her lips.

Lexa catches Clarke’s eyes and grins wickedly, “Turn around, Ambassador,” Lexa orders, and before Clarke can think to follow the directions, Lexa’s hands are around her waist, spinning her. Lexa pretends it’s because she’s impatient, but really she doesn’t quite trust Clarke’s stability right now. 

Clarke allows Lexa to spin her until she is facing the table, and she shivers as Lexa’s left hand leaves her waist to caress all the way up her back and neck to grab a fistful of Clarke’s mussed blonde waves. Then, Clarke feels as Lexa pushes insistently against her head, and Clarke submits, bending over at the waist until her front is flush with the table, her breasts pressing down on Clarke’s unfinished painting and reminding Clarke that her ass cheeks must be quite a mess.

“Your ass is as pretty as a painting, Clarke kom Skaikru,” Lexa teases as she takes in the view of Clarke’s paint covered skin.

“Lexa,” Clarke huffs, “stop staring and fuck me already.”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to use my name, Clarke,” Lexa retorts, putting even more stress than usual on her niron’s name just because she is allowed to use it. She scratches over the shape of Clarke’s adorable little ass, right hand continuing down to thigh and urging Clarke’s legs further apart. Access granted, Lexa indulges and cups Clarke’s pussy with her palm, enjoying the heat and the copious wetness she finds. “This is mine, Clarke,” Lexa drawls, digging the heel of her hand firmly against Clarke’s lips and feeling Clarke thrum, “Who does this pussy belong to? Tell me.”

Clarke moans and rocks against Lexa’s hand, “To you, Heda,” she gasps.

Lexa smiles, then asks, “Who did this do you? Got you so worked up, who got you dripping and begging?”

Clarke whimpers at Lexa’s question, knowing what Lexa is after, “You, Heda.”

Lexa smirks at Clarke’s submission, “And do you want me to fuck you, Clarke?”

Clarke nearly chokes on the words as they fall from her lips, “Sha Heda, beja. Heda, please.”

Lexa licks her lips, satisfied about hearing exactly what she wanted to. She drags her hand away from Clarke’s soaked folds, immediately missing the wet heat, placating herself by raising her palm to her mouth and licking it clean. Lexa grunts in pleasure, Clarke’s taste coating her tongue as she licks from her wrist to the tip of her middle finger. Her hand now clean, Lexa drops it and takes a firm hold of the dildo, her other hand squeezing possessively at Clarke’s hip. Lexa guides the toy as she edges forward, the tip pressing at the entrance to Clarke’s soaked pussy, Lexa drawing it all out just a little longer than necessary before pushing inside, filling Clarke up all over again, knowing that the new position will let her fuck Clarke nice and deep.

The sensation of being filled again is almost agonising she’s waited so long for it, and Clarke moans in delirious satisfaction when Lexa bottoms out. “Heda,” Clarke whimpers, knowing that the sound of her title will encourage Lexa to start moving.

“That’s it, Clarke. Take me all in,” Lexa coos, though she doesn’t intend to keep sounding so gentle. “I want to hear you, Clarke. I want you to tell me to whom you belong. Scream it, Ambassador. The louder you scream, the harder and faster I’ll fuck you. Now show me how much you want me.”

“Heda!” Clarke shouts the title, desperate to make Lexa move. She is rewarded by a single, bruising thrust and an accompanying bang as the table bounces on the wall again. “Heda!” Clarke repeats again, another thrust is her reward. She quickly catches on. “Heda, Heda, Heda,” she turns her lover’s title into a mantra, screaming the syllables out in quick succession, never letting up because Clarke knows that Lexa will stop fucking her the moment she does.

Lexa works to match the rhythm of her hips with the sound of her title escaping Clarke’s lips. The thud of the table on the wall and the wet slap of Clarke’s pussy as Lexa pounds into her only add to the cacophony, and after how quiet they had to be in that storeroom, the noise is absolutely beautiful. Earlier, they hadn’t wanted anyone to know where they were or what they were up to, but now, Lexa doesn’t care if the whole tower, the whole capital, can hear Clarke screaming as Lexa claims her over and over and over. Lexa can feel every inch of her skin drenched in sweat under her layers of clothing, beads of exertion forming on her forehead too and trickling down the sides of her face. 

Lexa grunts against the fatigue, her hands clamping around Clarke’s waist, encouraging Clarke’s hips back to meet every thrust. Once Clarke is matching Lexa’s rhythm entirely of her own accord, Lexa moves her hands elsewhere, sweeping her fingertips up Clarke’s soft sides, scratching and caressing all over Clarke’s back. It still isn’t intimate enough and Lexa adjusts her position slightly, leaning over Clarke’s body so that she can reach her next target. Her left hand forces itself between the table and Clarke’s flesh, Lexa feeling paint coat the back of her hand as her palm finds Clarke’s tit. She squeezes the round globe greedily, mouth falling agape as the action makes Clarke chant her title even louder and faster. Lexa knows that Clarke must be so very close, and this time she has absolutely no intention of stopping before the end. Lexa’s right hand reaches around Clarke’s body, fingers searching out Clarke’s pussy and expertly parting those ample lips. Lexa’s fingers glide against Clarke’s well hidden clit, the nub swollen under her touch. 

Clarke’s hips rock erratically as Lexa’s fingers start to circle against her clit, the added stimulation making it too difficult for Clarke to concentrate on matching her pace to Lexa’s. Clarke simply stops her rocking, trusting that as long as she keeps chanting Lexa’s title, then the Commander will happily do all of the work for her. She feels as her pussy takes in the toy over and over, walls clenching around its length.Clarke is addicted to the feeling of having Lexa inside her, of Lexa’s fingers working her clit, Lexa’s hand squeezing and kneading her tit. Clarke lets out one final, deafening scream of Lexa’s name as her orgasm hits, knocking the air from her lungs and the remaining strength from her body. Clarke tumbles, going still for just a moment before violent shudders of release overtake her, leaving her trembling against the table. Lexa guides her through her climax, her hard thrusts slowing, and growing gentle, drawing Clarke’s pleasure out for as long as possible. At last, Lexa goes still and the room falls silent but for the sound of Lexa’s breathing and Clarke’s quiet whimpers.

Lexa waits a good few moments, watching Clarke’s body until its residual trembles have subsided, and then she draws her hips back and pulls out of Clarke, letting the soaked toy glide up over Clarke’s ass as Lexa bends over to kiss the sweat beads from Clarke’s spine. Clarke still shows no sign of movement other than the rapid rise and fall of her back in time to her breathing, and as Lexa waits, she finds herself finally caring about just how hot one gets when you fuck someone in full regalia. 

“I’m really rather warm, Clarke,” Lexa states quietly, hoping to prompt a reaction from Clarke. She hears a groan and Lexa rights herself to watch as Clarke battles to pick her head up off the table.

“Well I’m starving,” comes Clarke’s muttered reply.

Lexa laughs, remembering then that Clarke still hasn’t eaten breakfast and it must be well past midday by now. While that wouldn’t do at all, Lexa wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to be clever, “Well,” she responds, “I don’t know why. You ate in the storeroom.”

Clarke groans and lets her head flop back down onto the table. “You know, if you hadn’t of just fucked me silly, I’d call you a name right now,” Clarke says.

“You are good at calling names, niron,” Lexa doesn’t miss a beat. With Clarke still so spent, Lexa turns her attention to ridding herself of the harness, intending to strip and cool off.

“Aren’t you going to fetch me food?” Clarke asks.

“I’ll send someone,” Lexa states as she plonks the harness and toy onto the table besides the mess of Clarke’s hair. Then Lexa remembers that it’s their first dry day in ages. Weather wise at least. “Or you can come with me to get food from the market,” she suggests.

“Lexa,” Clarke starts, “do I look in any fit state to walk anywhere? I don’t even think my legs will hold me up. And if they could I’d be walking funny. All of Polis would know what we’ve been doing.”

Lexa lets out another laugh at that. “Clarke, niron, you were so very loud I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole of Polis already knew.” 

Clarke huffs, “That is exactly why I have to stay here and you have to fetch the food.”

Lexa snorts and turns toward the door, making like she’s going to leave Clarke exactly where she is, “Is there anything in particular you want, or should I surprise you?”

“Lexa!” comes Clarke’s tired voice, “You cannot just leave me on this table. Take me to bed.”

Lexa stops in her tracks and shuffles back toward Clarke, picking her up effortlessly and throwing her over her shoulder. “You didn’t actually think I’d leave on the table did you, niron? Come on, let’s get you into bed,” Lexa says, crossing the room and laying Clarke gently on her side of the mattress. 

“Babe, I’m going to get paint on your sheets,” Clarke frets as Lexa is tucking her in. 

“Shh, Clarke, don’t worry. We can get new sheets if the paint doesn’t wash off. How’s your artwork anyway?” Lexa replies, pushing down her irritation at paint on her sheets.

Clarke snorts, “Ruined probably, I’ll have to redo it.”

Lexa saunters over to the table and picks up the parchment that Clarke had painted. The colors have run and the paint has smeared in the most abstract way. “It’s beautiful Clarke, I’m keeping it,” Lexa states, matter of factly. “Look, I can see your nipple print right there.”

Clarke groans from the bed, exhausted, hungry, and just a little grumpy. “Lexa! Food! You can look at my nipple print or my actual nipples after you feed me.”

Lexa chuckles at Clarke’s bossiness. “I’m going, I’m going,” Lexa says, making her way to the bedroom door, but not before stopping to plant a kiss on Clarke’s forehead. “Rest, niron, I’ll be back soon.”

Content that she’ll soon be fed, Clarke smiles and snuggles into the bed and the pillows. “Hurry Lex, and bring something sweet,” Clarke says to Lexa’s back as she reaches the door.

“Are you saying that I am not sweet enough to satisfy you, Clarke?” Lexa teases back.

“LEXA!” Clarke yells, throwing a pillow from the bed that she knows Lexa will catch, “Hurry back!”

Lexa snatches the pillow out of the air before it comes anywhere near hitting her and tosses it back on the bed, “I underestimated your hunger, niron, I’ll be back from the market soon,” Lexa says, laughing as she opens the door to leave; already impatient to get back. If Clarke thinks that food is the only thing to look forward to for the rest of the day, she has another thing coming.

**Author's Note:**

> We wrote this in one day. Clarke's not the only hungry one.


End file.
